Evolutionary Setbacks
by twinklestar148
Summary: Scar asks Simba a question and recieves the expected answer.


A/N: So I decided to bother you guys again with my subpar attempts to get into Scar's brilliantly devious mind.

Originally this was suppose to be a full length fanfic oneshot but...somewhere, something got kind of lost in translation in my head :)

Either way, please review :D

Edit 2/2/2011: I went and fixed a continuity error that a wonderful reviewer pointed out AND tried to fix some grammatical errors ANOTHER wonderful reviewer pointed out.

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"Why do you think your father is the king?" Scar asked, with something close to honest curiosity, one evening, sprawled lazily on his side, watching Mufasa's spawn happily chase light and shadows and imaginary somethings-or-others around his isolated alcove.

He probably should have been trying to put the cub to sleep if only so Mufasa wouldn't come and lecture him on the duties of a babysitter. However, he figured, if the whelp wanted to make himself sick running around like that, well, who was Scar to stop him?

Simba laughed delightedly and paused for one brief moment in his pouncing to answer, a shrill, childish sound that grated at Scar's skull, "Because he's the bravest, strongest, bestest lion ever!"

He returned to pouncing with more zeal than ever before, an unreasonable sparkle in his great amber eyes. Scar sighed disappointedly, letting his head flop back against the sandy, stone ground. "Of course," he drawled, forcing a toothy grin. He had a feeling it didn't really suit his facial features.

How ridiculous, he thought scornfully. How ridiculous of Simba to believe that and how _arrogant _of Mufasa to have never explained such a simple concept as birthright to his own offspring. It was really the only reason he was king after all.

Bravest, strongest, bestest lion ever, huh? How preposterous. Simba only knew the lions in their pride and nothing of the old kings, so it was a foolish statement to make and only showed off the whelp's ignorance. Then again, for some strange reason, young animals had the oddest tendency to idolize their parents.

Scar frowned, shifting around so that his shoulder was more comfortable against the hard ground. The purpose of reproduction was to improve the species, keep it going so that evolution could make its mark on the specific species in question. The instinctual desire cubs had to become exactly like their parents makes the whole process redundant because, really, what's the point of becoming physically better if one does not become psychologically stronger as well?

Scar considered that for a moment, ignoring the crash as Simba fell off a small boulder. _He_ had never admired his parents. His father was too weak; his mother, too useless. _Mufasa_ on the other hand, he had _lived_ for their approval- still did, in some ways.

Really, if Scar wasn't so disgusted by it he might have felt pity for the big, golden fool.

He grew up to be just like their father. Hopelessly narrow-minded, weak, self-righteous, and, worst of all, he was-

Well. There was no need to go into that anyway, seeing as Mufasa would be dead soon enough.

Simba appeared in front of Scar, heart-breaking tears filling his large eyes. "Uncle Scar," he whispered, as though making his voice lower would hide the tremor in it, "I hurt my paw real bad."

"Oh, dear," Scar said, lifting his head idly, though he managed to insert some semblance of concern into his oily voice, "You simply _must _let me have a look. I won't take no for an answer... Oh my, that is the nastiest cut I have _ever_ seen. Come with me, my boy, we must wash it off!… Goodness, if it were _me_ in your position…well, I simply cannot understand how you can remain so _calm _about this."

As Scar led the way to the waterhole, he glanced back over his shoulder at Simba. The cub, though still limping and grimacing at the small cut on the bottom of his paw, straightened up with pride at his uncle's praises.

Scar shook his head disgustedly, black mane falling and shadowing his narrowed, calculating green eyes.

The boy was exactly like his father.

(He wondered if he would be able to watch him die as well)

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A/N: So...tell me if there are any tense issues in here because this started in present, then moved to past because Scar's clinical tone doesn't go well with present... Oy.

Remember: REVIEW, PLEASE :D


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